After He Fell
by degrassian98
Summary: Was Gaston about to transform into a horrifying monster, like the one who had ultimately caused his demise? Was this some sort of dream or illusion? If he weren't paralyzed, he'd reach to pinch himself. He'd had horrible dreams after the war, dreams that haunted him, but none had felt this real. The enchantress decides to put a spell on Gaston. Eventual GastonxLefou. 2017 movie.
1. Chapter 1

He fell. And it was a deathly fall. There was no way anyone - not even a strong, powerful man like Gaston could survive falling thousands of feet off of a crumbling castle. But he woke up.

There was a woman standing over him. "Gaston." She said, harshly. There was something familiar about the voice, but Gaston couldn't quite place it. He wasn't in pain. Not at all. His eyes opened groggily and all he saw was light. Glowing, sparkling golden light. As his vision became more focused, he could see his surroundings. Still blurry, but he could finally see.

He was levitating. Gaston was floating. In a cloud of golden glitter.

"W-where am I? Put me down at once!" He shouted. "Put me down! What's happening!"

Then she appeared. A beautiful, beautiful woman. More beautiful than Belle, or any other woman he'd ever seen combined. She was staring over him with contempt in her eyes. What was she about to do?

"You can't do anything to me! I'm Gaston! Je suis Gaston!"

Her hands shook, and the gold glitter that surrounded Gaston came from her fingertips. "You love only yourself." She began. Her voice was angry. It almost sounded possessed. "That is no way to live."

Gaston squinted at the woman. Holy hell. An inkling of a woman he recognized came through. It was... Agatha. Or someone who looked like Agatha. A beautiful, glowing, terrifying version of Agatha, the spinster. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. His lips felt like they were stitched shut all of a sudden.

"And you will learn to love another. Or you'll never have beauty such as yours again. You will die. As a beast."

 _A beast?_ Gaston thought. Was he about to transform into a horrifying monster, like the one who had ultimately caused his demise? His mind tried to focus. Was this some sort of dream? If he weren't paralyzed, he'd reach to pinch himself. He'd had horrible dreams after the war, dreams that haunted him, but none had felt this real. Was this some sort of afterlife? Some sort of trick? His eyes wandered back to the enchantress and he gave her a helpless, terrified look. He never submitted to anyone, much less a woman, much less a spinster... But he was at her mercy.

Her fingers shook once again, but this time they balled into a fist before splaying out toward Gaston. Casting a spell.

His entire body was suddenly in excruciating pain. The transition from numbness to pain felt like something that may kill him. He'd never been in pain like this, and he had been shot with a bow and arrow before. Lefou's fault, of course. He felt as his fingers and knuckles ripped, turning into paws. His spine expanded, cracking with every single inch. His gums ached as his teeth fell out in a bloody mess, and new fangs sprouted in their absence. His entire body was changing in an instance, and he couldn't control it, or move. He couldn't even properly writhe in pain. He was still paralyzed. Suddenly, the world went black, and his pain disappeared.

He woke up inside his own home. A glorious, beautiful spot on the edge of the village. He was alive. And it had all been a horrifying dream. He stretched his legs, testing his abilities, making sure he wasn't still paralyzed. He wasn't. Thank heavens. His dreams were vivid, but this was beyond vivid. This dream really just seemed real.

He laid in bed for a few more moments, going over the details of the dreams once again. Had he dreamed the entire Beast situation? When did he go to sleep? Had he been rescued from the rubble of the castle? Panic set in. He got out of bed, heading toward his luxurious kitchen, entirely paid for by the village as a thank-you for fighting in the war, and picked up a metal pan. The biggest one he had, that he usually used to cook his eggs in the morning. He looked into the metal pan as if it were a mirror, something he'd done to admire his good looks a time or two in the past, and what he saw shocked him.

Gaston dropped the pan on his feet. His paws, actually. He was a beast. A horrendous, disgusting, hairy beast. He sort of resembled the Beast who had taken Belle hostage, but handsomer, of course.

How had this happened? What power did Agatha, the apparent enchantress, have? And how did she do this? And why? Questions filled his head. So many that they overtook him. His body took over and he went to scream, but it came out as a harrowing, horrifying roar.

Gaston. La bête.


	2. Chapter 2

"What do I do, what do I do?" Gaston questioned out loud to nobody in particular. He was pacing back and forth in his home. The only other noise in the air besides his voice was the clicking of his hooves on the floor. He had hooves now. Hooves. The transformation had left him in a panicked and terrified state that he'd never quite experienced before. Gaston wasn't someone who got scared. He was someone who was superior to fear. He laughed in the face of danger and fear. But that was before an enchantress had turned him into a Beast with fangs and hooves.

As far as he knew, everyone thought he was dead. He fell from a great height from the Beast's castle. Anyone who saw him fall that way would've assumed Gaston was no more. Even Gaston, the invincible, bulletproof, fantastical superhuman couldn't have sustained a traumatic fall like that. Did that mean nobody would come looking for him, or did that mean that someone would arrive soon to check on his house, clear it out, or snoop through his things?

The village would likely want to memorialize him, no? Maybe not. They'd seen a side of him they didn't seem to like during the storming of the Beast's castle. Even LeFou, his best friend and confidante, had turned against him when they began fighting through the enchanted furniture in the castle.

He assumed now that all of that had been Agatha's doing. He felt guilt for calling her a lonely spinster for all of those years, insulting her to her face and calling her a sickening reminder of what happens when you don't marry young. She was his only hope now, and they weren't exactly starting off on a good foot.

He thought back to the castle. The storming. The exclamations to kill The Beast. The shots he'd fired at the horrible hairy thing. It was all necessary. He was saving Belle. At least, he thought he was. He had started to second-guess things a few times, but he had a mission to complete and he couldn't back out. The village knew there was a damsel in distress and if Gaston were to let the most beautiful girl in the village disappear and live her life in a crumbling castle with a giant beast, he'd lose his status and his reputation. Everyone would see him as weak. And he couldn't live that way. He couldn't live without being the war hero - the hero in everything. He was born to be a hero. He couldn't back down. He simply couldn't. And if that made the village think he was a monster, there was nothing he could do. If that was true, that he was a monster, then Agatha's punishment made perfect sense.

Gaston heard a knock on his door and nearly jumped out of his skin. Nobody could see him like this. They'd kill him on the spot. He was so repulsive. They'd never recognize him as the handsome, successful man he was. And even if they did, there was a chance that the entire village hated him now, so he might receive the same fate no matter what. So he hid. Cowardly and embarrassing, he knew, but he needed to save his own skin - or fur, as it seemed now.

The door creaked open and a familiar face entered. LeFou. He entered and immediately, Gaston, who had strategically placed himself behind the throne he had installed into his house, watched Lefou's eyes well up into tears. Gaston's brows furrowed. LeFou seemed really taken by this whole situation. They were close friends, of course, but Gaston didn't really think he'd be crying if Lefou had been thrown off of a castle. He'd probably just be thankful that it wasn't him.

"I miss you." Lefou said to the room that was, to his knowledge, empty. "I miss you, Gaston. I should've done something. I turned my back on you." He sniffed. His tone was full of grief and distress. "You were just... so out of control. I couldn't say or do anything to fix you. You were past saving. Past any level I've ever seen you at. You were... worse than the war. More venomous, more malicious, more..." He broke down, tears streaming down his puffy, pink face. Gaston found himself feeling sorry for the tiny man. "I know I shouldn't be sorry. You were the villain in this situation. The Beast... He was harmless. He didn't deserve to almost die. And I'm better. Stronger. But... I was in love with you for so many years. It's... It's hard to let go of something like that."

In love? Lefou? But... Gaston was a man. Gaston went through everything in his head. Every action, every close touch, every time LeFou made excuses for why he hadn't taken a wife... And it clicked. Lefou had feelings for Gaston. He still didn't understand the situation clearly, as he'd only considered women as romantic partners, and he'd never met someone who was interested in the same sex before. He didn't even know if there was an appropriate word for someone like that. A word floated in his head that he knew was the wrong thing to call someone like LeFou, so he refused to think it.

Trying to comprehend this was making Gaston's brain hurt. There was enough trauma that had occurred, the last thing he needed was a headache. He shut his eyes tightly as LeFou continued his monologue.

"The Beast... He turned into a human." A human? Gaston's eyes shot open, wondering if LeFou was about to reveal details about the curse. Agatha had spoken in such vague terms about the curse, so more information would definitely help the cause of saving Gaston from a monstrous, horrid existence. "He turned into a human, and he and Belle.. they looked so happy and in love. You were wrong about him. He wasn't a horrible beast. He was stuck... He was stuck in the body of a beast until he found true love. Belle told me so."

So, the cure to this thing was true love. Gaston had never been in love before. It felt like such a foreign concept. What, truly, was love? He thought he loved Belle. She was beautiful, why wouldn't he? But he didn't love her. That much was clear, because if LeFou loved him, truly loved him, then love was nothing like Gaston thought it was. He wouldn't grieve Belle in this way. He wouldn't fall to his knees, desperate for answers over Belle. He wouldn't speak out loud to nobody like some sort of mentally ill person for Belle. If love was what LeFou was expressing to Gaston's memory, he had a long way to go. And he didn't know where he was going to start.


	3. Chapter 3

LeFou laid on Gaston's floor curled into a ball for a few minutes more. His entire body had been overtaken by the shakes, and his face was tomato red and stained with tears. Gaston just watched in awe. He'd always liked when people paid attention to him. Attention was the most important currency, after money, of course... And maybe sex. But this was different than plain old attention. This was someone truly, deeply, unconditionally caring about Gaston's existence. And not his existence as the sexy war veteran down the lane or the strong man who can lift a cow to impress the farmer's daughter... But true care for Gaston as a person.

Gaston, the man who made mistake after mistake. And Gaston, the man who just so happened to be watching from the other side of the room, now covered in dark fur and morphed into a gruesome creature, unfit for anyone's eyes.

He wondered if LeFou would love him now. Probably. Maybe. But maybe not. LeFou had been the most selfless person all along, while Gaston had been the most selfish. And it never even occurred to Gaston. He took LeFou completely for granted.

"Goodbye." LeFou stood up shakily, his body clearly unsteady from grief. "I have to say goodbye to you now. I'm sorry. A piece of my heart will always belong to you..." He paused, seemingly unable to speak suddenly. But he choked through. "My Gaston." He then reached for one of the many framed paintings of Gaston that hung on the wall, putting his fingers to his lips and then to Gaston's forehead. Not his lips. His forehead. True affection in the purest form. A passing thought popped into Gaston's head, thinking that anyone else would've likely placed a kiss on Gaston's more memorable assets, like his abs or his gigantic biceps. But not LeFou.

LeFou unhooked the portrait from the wall and carried it with him as he exited. Usually, Gaston would leap out and call the man out for stealing one of Gaston's favorite paintings of himself, but things like that felt so minuscule now in comparison to the mess he'd gotten himself into.

Gaston let out a loud exhale as LeFou shut the creaky door. He didn't even realize he was holding his breath. Gaston slowly removed himself from his hiding place and looked around. He couldn't stay here. He needed to find somewhere else to live... Somewhere else to hide. His hooves clicked on the floor once again. He could never get used to that sound. It resembled a horse, or a woman in high heels. Neither of which were things Gaston wanted to be compared to. Although, both were better looking than he was in his current state.

He heard a knock at his door. LeFou again? Gaston instinctively rushed to his hiding place, but the door swung open, like a strong gust of wind was forcing it open. But it wasn't the wind. It was Agatha. She stared at Gaston curiously. "So, how do you like your new look?" She spoke. This was the first time since this whole thing started that she didn't speak like she was straight out of a riddle.

"What do I do?" Gaston asked immediately. He knew the details of the previous Beast's curse, or spell, or whatever it was, but this could be different. He didn't have a castle, or any enchanted furniture surrounding him, so clearly the circumstances were at least slightly different.

"You must learn to love someone other than yourself, and earn their love in return." She reached into her pocket and fished out an hourglass that was filled with the same gold glitter that had surrounded him when he was being transformed.

Gaston reached out to touch the hourglass. When his fingers made contact, he got zapped. Agatha wagged her finger. "Let me finish explaining. Impatient and vain. I'm _ever_ reminded as to why I put this spell on you." He cocked his head in response, but let out a deep sigh. If he wanted to get out of this ghastly situation, he was going to have to start listening to other people. Especially Agatha.

She turned the hourglass over and one small grain of the golden glitter fell. "When the hourglass is up, so is your time." She handed the hourglass to him. "And after that, you will remain a beast forever." She handed him an antique mirror similar to the one that Belle had brought back to the village when she learned Maurice was in danger just... what was it, a few days earlier? It felt like a lifetime ago. Gaston winced at his reflection in the mirror, but gripped the handle tightly. "How long will that be?" He asked, and Agatha shook her head, refusing to answer. It seemed Gaston was going to be on his own with this one. And it seemed he'd need to act quickly. Another grain had already fallen. Sure, there were probably thousands of little grains of glitter, but he wasn't going to risk the rest of his life, and he wasn't going to be able to breathe or sleep calmly until he found someone to fall in love with.

"I will provide you with a house in the woods. Away from the village. I want you to have a new start. Away from all of this." She gestured around, and for the first time, Gaston realized that his home was basically a shrine to himself. His former, handsome self, anyway.

"So how am I supposed to find love?" Gaston asked. Being secluded in the woods didn't seem like a perfect opportunity to find love. It almost felt like Agatha was setting him up to fail.

"You will. Somehow." Agatha said, before turning on her heels and leaving. As the door shut, Gaston was transported to a new location. He was never going to get used to this magic stuff.

He observed his surroundings nervously, feeling like if he touched something he may just cease to exist or turn to stone. He never knew, with all of the magic in the air. The house in the woods was quaint. Far more quaint than anywhere that had ever been graced with Gaston's presence in the past. But it was unique. Something about it drew Gaston in.

The walls were paneled with dark wood, and there wasn't a painting or photo to be seen. A house without decorations was like a man without muscles. Useless and ugly. His eyes scanned the rest of the room. The living room had a green couch and what looked like a handmade rug. That was it. Again, quaint. But the rug that sat on the floor was the most beautiful rug he'd ever seen. It was strange how the smallest accents made the whole package just a bit more beautiful. Or at least livable.

He ventured into the other rooms. The house was only three rooms. A living area that had a built in kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom. He was able to look over the place pretty quickly and take in all of the details. It wasn't an opulent palace, after all. There were small details, like the rug and a golden lamp in the bedroom that he liked, but overall...Drab. Completely and utterly drab. But he assumed it was meant to mirror his beastly appearance. The beast that Belle fell for had the advantage of living in a gorgeous castle. Gaston couldn't help but feel as if he was at a disadvantage.

"Agatha?" He called out, hoping there was some easy way to summon her. But no response. No gust of wind or golden glitter appeared. And finally, he really did feel alone in the world. He went over the house again, hoping for some sort of clue. Agatha made it seem like he'd have some sort of help. Some sort of idea of how he was going to make a woman fall in love with him and fall in love with her in return... But he was clueless.

Finally, after going over the house again and again, his eyes fell on a small square of paper that was stuck to the bottom of the golden lamp he'd admired in his tiny bedroom. A note from Agatha. Finally. Some sort of guidance.

"Gaston," It read. "I have wiped the memory of you from the minds of those who loved you. You will have a fresh start. Nobody knows of any man named Gaston."


	4. Chapter 4

It had been a whole week since Agatha had instated the curse, or spell... Or _whatever_ it was. Gaston had spent the first two days inside the cabin she had provided, terrified to step out and be discovered. After all, if he had seen himself as he was now before his transition, he would've shot himself and hung his disgusting, horrendous head above his fireplace. There wasn't a chance in the world he was going to risk his life to some hunter who would probably happen upon him ages before some beautiful, accepting woman would. But after those two days, he began getting cabin fever. He needed to get out. Even if it was just for a few minutes, to breathe in fresh air.

He started off slow, on day three. He stepped out of the cabin and walked for about twenty minutes, managing not to get discovered by anyone but a few curious squirrels who seemed to scurry away in terror when they noticed how horrid Gaston looked now.

The next four days, he began to grow a bit of bravery, venturing further and further. Not necessarily looking for anyone or anything, but just... exploring. He began to see the woods, and the _world_ , with a different eye. He noticed tiny things, like the fingernail sized spiders who creeped up the side of trees, hoping not to get noticed and squashed, which seemed like a blatant metaphor for what Gaston was going through... Trying his best not to be spotted. Trying his best not to end up a pile of guts.

On day seven, though, things changed for Gaston. On one of his daily walks, which had basically become his social interaction, where he walked and talked out the things he was feeling, he came across the most beautiful stream. It had existed all this time, but he never gave it a second thought. He remembered times when he'd trudge through these exact woods, just stomping in the water like it was nothing - just something to ruin his boots. But now, he noticed the frogs that made the little stream their home... The fish that swam with the current, the small plants that Gaston didn't recognize but immediately fell in love with... It was insane how just a week of isolation completely changed the way he saw the world. Was this Agatha's intention, or just an unintended side effect? He had to believe, as he was getting more self aware, that Agatha had done this all on purpose. All of this was to teach Gaston a lesson. But would the lesson be taught before the golden sand ran out and he became a hideous beast forever? It had only been a week, but Gaston was beginning to lose hope. After all, who would fall for some disgusting indistinguishable creature they found in the woods?


End file.
